#1916 #AHeapO'Livin' #EnglishWriters
RECKON when our days are done And God takes up our record sheet… Our little failings He will view, And gaze at us with kindly smile, And maybe say: ‘I see that you
Once the house was lovely, but it’… For time has come an’ stained its… An’ all that’s left for mother an’… Is to sit an’ tell each other what… We couldn’t keep 'em always an’ we…
AIRY, fairy Lillian, What a naughty thing to do, By noon had read a Laura Libbey paper novel through. By four o’clock another
The crowded street his playground… A puddle in a vacant lot his sea w… Poor little orphan boy of five, th… Taint every cooling breeze he gets… And he is just as your boy is, a c…
I want my boy to love his home, His Mother, yes, and me: I want him, wheresoe’er he’ll roam… With us in thought to be. I want him to love what is fine,
Does the grouch get richer quicker… Can the grumbler labor better than… Is the mean and churlish neighbor… Who shouts a glad ‘good morning,’… Just stop and think about it. Ha…
SWEET is a rosebud, pink or red, And sweet are the blooms of May, And sweet is the fragrance about u… On many a summer day. Oh, the world is full of such swee…
WHY do I grind from morn till ni… And sick or well sit down to write… Why do I line my brow with sweat, An extra buck or two to get? The reason isn’t hard to trace,
Full many a flag the breeze has ki… Through ages long the morning sun Has risen over the early mist The flags of men to look upon. And some were red against the sky,
It’s mighty hard for Mother’I am… And the tasks of every morning kee… And I’m not forever meeting with… To remind me of our sorrow when I… But with Mother it is different’t…
IF I had wealth and I had health… And I 'd a roof above me, If I’d a wife to cheer my life, But not one child to love me, No rosy-lipped young laughing miss…
He was battle-scarred and ugly wit… And we knew that British Tommy ha… So we asked him where he got it an… And he answered, blushing scarlet:… There were medals on his jacket, b…
There’s a wondrous smell of spices In the kitchen, Most bewitchin’; There are fruits cut into slices That just set the palate itchin’;
Never a sigh for the cares that sh… Never a thought of the joys that f… Her one regret that she couldn’t d… Thoughtless and selfish, her Mast… Oh, the long nights that she came…
There are many to cheer when the b… There are many to shout for the ri… There are many to rail at the worl… But few have the grit for the figh… There are thousands to start with…